The fiery father will come out of the sky
He shall strike upon us who were born to fry
Out of despair into a mass genocide
Souls swept away by his nuclear tide
A dark wind blows
Over this land of death
Pounding everything
Into a black smoking mess
The fury of flames
Inside our wounds
All that we pray for
Is death to come soon
The fiery father will come out of the sky
He shall strike upon us who were born to fry
Out of despair into a mass suicide
Souls swept away by his nuclear tide
Our gods are dethroned
By a mushroom cloud
Dead but dreaming
Alone in a crowd
Reduced to ashes
Naked and cold
In the not too distant future
I see death itself reload